And thanks to my awesome sister for my Maui-themed Christmas Tree.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Christmas in Maui
Behold, the handy work of Jesse and me.
And thanks to my awesome sister for my Maui-themed Christmas Tree.
And thanks to my awesome sister for my Maui-themed Christmas Tree.
Story for my Sister #7
I was still trying to pat out a few of the wrinkles on my jacket when the elevator doors opened to a reception area. “Hi,” I smiled and waved to the woman sitting behind the desk across the room. Somehow, without raising her eyebrow, the woman gave me the raised-eyebrow look.
The doors started to close but I fumbled my way out just before they shut completely. “Aren’t there supposed to be sensors on that thing?” I looked down at my jacket, acting surprised, “Now my suit’s all wrinkled!”
“Have a seat sir,” she added. And somehow, without rolling her eyes, she gave me the rolling-eyes look.
Just as I found my seat, the door across from me burst open and that familiar face stormed out. This time, however, her expression of quiet contempt had been replaced by teary eyes and flush cheeks. She performed an about face that would make any drill sergeant proud and spoke through clenched teeth, “Fuck. You.”
“Look, sister,” said her addressee who stood just out of sight, “All I’m trying to say here is that it would be a damn shame to see those fine legs go to waste.”
She turned her head and looked directly at me, this time with wide eyes that pleaded for help, and for the first time in my life I felt compelled to reach back and help her. But my life up to this point had largely revolved around me. So I did the best I knew how and looked everywhere except back into her eyes.
In my peripheral vision, though, I saw something break inside her. In the briefest moment she took in an abrupt gasp of air and then bit her lip. She turned back toward the man behind the door, swung her arm with a satisfying slap and stumbled past me and into the elevator, eyes fixated on the ground.
The doors started to close but I fumbled my way out just before they shut completely. “Aren’t there supposed to be sensors on that thing?” I looked down at my jacket, acting surprised, “Now my suit’s all wrinkled!”
“Have a seat sir,” she added. And somehow, without rolling her eyes, she gave me the rolling-eyes look.
Just as I found my seat, the door across from me burst open and that familiar face stormed out. This time, however, her expression of quiet contempt had been replaced by teary eyes and flush cheeks. She performed an about face that would make any drill sergeant proud and spoke through clenched teeth, “Fuck. You.”
“Look, sister,” said her addressee who stood just out of sight, “All I’m trying to say here is that it would be a damn shame to see those fine legs go to waste.”
She turned her head and looked directly at me, this time with wide eyes that pleaded for help, and for the first time in my life I felt compelled to reach back and help her. But my life up to this point had largely revolved around me. So I did the best I knew how and looked everywhere except back into her eyes.
In my peripheral vision, though, I saw something break inside her. In the briefest moment she took in an abrupt gasp of air and then bit her lip. She turned back toward the man behind the door, swung her arm with a satisfying slap and stumbled past me and into the elevator, eyes fixated on the ground.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Sketch: Conclusion
An Autobiography.
When he is 50 he starts writing his life story. On his 100th birthday his story catches up to him.
When he is 50 he starts writing his life story. On his 100th birthday his story catches up to him.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Dexter (on Showtime)
Long Version:
I try to keep my television watching in check, and I think I do a reasonable job. Somewhere along the line I stopped channel surfing, which is a good thing. These days I just a have a few shows that I watch religiously, and aside from a sports game here or there, I don't watch much TV outside of those programs.
With my HDTV package, though, I get Showtime, and I'm finally realizing that there are some damn good series. It started with my boy James C. getting my into Weeds which was pretty good (he claims the earlier seasons were better). Californication aired in the following time slot, which I thought was a really cool show. But these days I've really gotten into Dexter. I think it's awesome. I've seen most of the second season, and intend to watch the first pretty soon. Here's a clip.
Short Version:
I LIKES TVS AND DESXTER
I try to keep my television watching in check, and I think I do a reasonable job. Somewhere along the line I stopped channel surfing, which is a good thing. These days I just a have a few shows that I watch religiously, and aside from a sports game here or there, I don't watch much TV outside of those programs.
With my HDTV package, though, I get Showtime, and I'm finally realizing that there are some damn good series. It started with my boy James C. getting my into Weeds which was pretty good (he claims the earlier seasons were better). Californication aired in the following time slot, which I thought was a really cool show. But these days I've really gotten into Dexter. I think it's awesome. I've seen most of the second season, and intend to watch the first pretty soon. Here's a clip.
Short Version:
I LIKES TVS AND DESXTER
Story for my Sister #6
“17 West Park,” she said. “Quickly, please.”
“17 West Park,” I repeated, half out of habit, half because it sounded somehow familiar. I popped the address into the navigation machine and proceeded to ignore its instructions. I knew my way around.
A half an hour later I found out that I did not, in fact, know my way around – something my fare was not shy about pointing out.
“I’m sorry, but are we going to be there soon?” She said.
Before I could answer, the computer chimed in, “You have missed your turn. Turn left at the next light.”
“Look sweetheart, we’re almost there,” I said, staying mostly in my lane as I tried to catch the street names.
She sighed a long, audible sigh. The kind of sigh that exasperated women do to show you that they’re displeased. “Why don’t you just do what the navigation things says?”
“You missed your turn,” said the computer again, on cue, “Please turn around.”
“Look, it wants me to do a U-turn,” I said throwing my hand in the air. The kind of arms throwing I do when I want to show people that I don’t know what the fuck. “Damn computer wants me to break the law.”
“I’m not paying for the extra mileage,” she said as she crossed her arms and turned her entire body away from me to look out the window.
I kept going for a couple more blocks before making a U-turn. A few more turns, a couple around-the-blocks, and just one more U-turn was all it took to arrive at 17 West Park Street.
As soon as I stopped the lady flung open the door retorting, “It’s about time.”
“Twenty-nine-fifty,” I said.
She halted, turned and glared with a look that might turn a caring man to stone. “I’m fifteen minutes late because of you. You should be thankful enough that I’m not having you fired.” She slammed the door and swiftly glided away.
I checked the clock and was shocked to realize that I, too, was fifteen minutes late for my interview. I grabbed a slew of papers from the glove box and fumbled through them to find a crumpled post-it note reading: Third Floor, 17 West Park St. The next thing that came out of my mouth was, “Shit” – the kind of “Shit” that people say when the immediate future looks pretty grim.
“17 West Park,” I repeated, half out of habit, half because it sounded somehow familiar. I popped the address into the navigation machine and proceeded to ignore its instructions. I knew my way around.
A half an hour later I found out that I did not, in fact, know my way around – something my fare was not shy about pointing out.
“I’m sorry, but are we going to be there soon?” She said.
Before I could answer, the computer chimed in, “You have missed your turn. Turn left at the next light.”
“Look sweetheart, we’re almost there,” I said, staying mostly in my lane as I tried to catch the street names.
She sighed a long, audible sigh. The kind of sigh that exasperated women do to show you that they’re displeased. “Why don’t you just do what the navigation things says?”
“You missed your turn,” said the computer again, on cue, “Please turn around.”
“Look, it wants me to do a U-turn,” I said throwing my hand in the air. The kind of arms throwing I do when I want to show people that I don’t know what the fuck. “Damn computer wants me to break the law.”
“I’m not paying for the extra mileage,” she said as she crossed her arms and turned her entire body away from me to look out the window.
I kept going for a couple more blocks before making a U-turn. A few more turns, a couple around-the-blocks, and just one more U-turn was all it took to arrive at 17 West Park Street.
As soon as I stopped the lady flung open the door retorting, “It’s about time.”
“Twenty-nine-fifty,” I said.
She halted, turned and glared with a look that might turn a caring man to stone. “I’m fifteen minutes late because of you. You should be thankful enough that I’m not having you fired.” She slammed the door and swiftly glided away.
I checked the clock and was shocked to realize that I, too, was fifteen minutes late for my interview. I grabbed a slew of papers from the glove box and fumbled through them to find a crumpled post-it note reading: Third Floor, 17 West Park St. The next thing that came out of my mouth was, “Shit” – the kind of “Shit” that people say when the immediate future looks pretty grim.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
The Derek Trucks Band - I Wish I Knew
My friend Carey got me into Derek Trucks. While Carey's shenanigans kept us from seeing the first two thirds of his concert here, the last few songs that we caught were pretty damn impressive. Here's one of them (gotta love gospel!):
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Super Computer
People are always asking me what exactly I do at work, and often I don't like to talk about it. But here it is, once and for all: I'm building a super computer.
See, back in 2006 Dominick and I discovered a piece of equipment (we found it in a dumpster) that had the potential to be the greatest computational device in the history of the world. I am working on realizing that potential.
See, back in 2006 Dominick and I discovered a piece of equipment (we found it in a dumpster) that had the potential to be the greatest computational device in the history of the world. I am working on realizing that potential.
Bush/Cheney
Every once in a while I forget this, but I think it's every American's duty to remember that Dick Cheney shot a man in the face with a shotgun. I mean, come on! How can you forget that. Even better, the man that he shot apologized to him for being shot in the face.
Yeah, normally mixing alcohol and politics is a bad idea, but my friend Carey and I were able to find our commonalities with Cheney shooting someone in the face. And while we agreed that living under the Bush administration has been pretty terrible and depressing, we also agreed that it wasn't without its amusement. Here's some of that:
Yeah, normally mixing alcohol and politics is a bad idea, but my friend Carey and I were able to find our commonalities with Cheney shooting someone in the face. And while we agreed that living under the Bush administration has been pretty terrible and depressing, we also agreed that it wasn't without its amusement. Here's some of that:
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
OkCupid
All right, so I've used this dating website called OkCupid on and off for a while with a little success. Unfortunately, because people out here on Maui live in caves and depend on an intricate network of yarn and tin cans to communicate (which doesn't provide an adequate bandwidth for internets), OkCupid has become useless. That is, except for entertainment.
After some interesting discussion with my good friend Ed, I've decided to just go around and be a general jackass to people. I know it's not original, but it's a good exercise nonetheless. I'll be logging the highlights here for my own amusement.
Here's my current profile that I'm not afraid to say I'm a bit proud of:
After some interesting discussion with my good friend Ed, I've decided to just go around and be a general jackass to people. I know it's not original, but it's a good exercise nonetheless. I'll be logging the highlights here for my own amusement.
Here's my current profile that I'm not afraid to say I'm a bit proud of:
My self-summary
A wise man once said think up and down while moving left and right. People would ask, but what about forward and back, and he would say, "Well, that is up to you." Those are the words I live by. I don't really know what they mean, so trying to live by them is rather difficult. I just have to take it day by day.
I consider myself somewhat liberal, and I don't believe the media is liberally biased. I am a dog person, but I like cats too! Don't ask me about either of these things, please.
When the days are long I don't get much done. When the days are short, it's usually because I slept for so long.
I'm putting sleep here because I don't imagine many people are interested in slept.
Sometimes I like to smoke cigarettes, other times I like to drink coffee. Most of the time I do neither of these things.
I consider myself somewhat liberal, and I don't believe the media is liberally biased. I am a dog person, but I like cats too! Don't ask me about either of these things, please.
When the days are long I don't get much done. When the days are short, it's usually because I slept for so long.
I'm putting sleep here because I don't imagine many people are interested in slept.
Sometimes I like to smoke cigarettes, other times I like to drink coffee. Most of the time I do neither of these things.
My personality awards
What I'm doing with my life
I done graduated college, and somehow I ended up on Maui. While can't say exactly what I do, I'll just lie and say I build robots.
I'm really good at
I'm really good at getting flat tires, and because of this I've gotten really good at changing tires. I wouldn't say I'm an expert, but I bet I could hold my own on a pit crew in Indianapolis. Just last night I had this crazy dream where Dale Earnhardt came to me as an angel and said solemnly "Had you only been on my team... had you only been on my team." I cried a little as he climbed up onto his saddle and rode off toward the sunset on his triceratops.
I'm pretty good at shooting targets with a pistol, honest! In my hayday (last year) I made it up to the NRA sanctioned ranked of Sharpshooter Bar 9. The art of pistol shooting, for me anyway, is a relaxing and meditative experience. Perhaps this is because I fire exclusively from traditional yoga positions.
Oh, I play saxophone, too.
I'm pretty good at shooting targets with a pistol, honest! In my hayday (last year) I made it up to the NRA sanctioned ranked of Sharpshooter Bar 9. The art of pistol shooting, for me anyway, is a relaxing and meditative experience. Perhaps this is because I fire exclusively from traditional yoga positions.
Oh, I play saxophone, too.
The first thing(s) people usually notice about me
Now that I've thought about this question more thoroughly I'd say that what people first notice about me depends on the context.
For example, when I'm jogging people probably think, "He's fast!"
When I'm on the highway I think the first thing that comes to people's minds is, "Holy shit, there's a dude walking around on the highway!"
For example, when I'm jogging people probably think, "He's fast!"
When I'm on the highway I think the first thing that comes to people's minds is, "Holy shit, there's a dude walking around on the highway!"
My favorite books, movies, music, and food
(A) 1984, American Gods
(B) One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Donnie Darko, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Layer Cake
The six things I could never do without
In the words of Don Redman, "A man needs only three things: Something to eat, somewhere to sleep, and someone to fuck."
If I double those, that gives me two things to eat, two places to sleep, and two people to fuck.
If I double those, that gives me two things to eat, two places to sleep, and two people to fuck.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
This question is best answered by distinguished scholar William Alston.
"Think long. Think hard. Don't think about last night."
"Think long. Think hard. Don't think about last night."
On a typical Friday night I am
Look for me at a bar! Wooo.
The most private thing I'm willing to admit here
I listen to Bjork. I'm also attracted to her. X-O
You should message me if
Hey, message me! Just don't ask me about those things that I asked you not to ask me about. Thanks.
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